


This Woman Is My Destiny

by bean_winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cisswap, F/F, Female!Castiel - Freeform, Female!Dean, Fluff and Angst, Song Inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bean_winchester/pseuds/bean_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas Novak walks smack into Deanna Winchester’s life for the second time at Jo Harvelle’s wedding in a dress swinging like springtime off of her hips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Woman Is My Destiny

                Cas Novak walks smack into Deanna Winchester’s life for the second time at Jo Harvelle’s wedding in a dress swinging like springtime off of her hips. She must have already spotted Deanna across the room, because she strolls right up to her without a sign of shock in her big blue eyes. Deanna recognizes those eyes before her heart can even skip a beat—they’ve always had this sharp, unearthly quality to them, like Cas is not quite there with you. And they’ve always been dipped in the cosmos. And the minute Deanna sees them, she can’t speak a word. She could just about fall down. Deanna has walked out of reality into some dream she had as a teenager. Before she can process her high-school crush standing in front of her, Cas—always direct, and looking a piercing kind of anxious—starts to speak.

                “Senior year. Behind the theater.” Deanna’s stomach drops. This isn’t every dream she had as a teenager. This is every nightmare. Cas stares unblinking into Deanna’s eyes and waits for her to speak. “Do you remember or don’t you?”

                “I-”

                “You owe me.” Cas glances back over her shoulder, her sloppily (sexily) bunned black hair swishing around with her, and then down at a drink in her shaking right-hand. “Drink this.” She shoves the glass into Deanna’s hand. It’s some cutsie red cocktail—not the sort of thing Deanna tends to drink (or at least let people see her drink). Cas watches her, expectant. Her wide eyes have the force of a cosmic hurricane behind them. In a bar, in her element, Deanna might have asked Cas if she was trying to ply her with alcohol, but this is far from charted waters. Deanna downs it without breaking eye contact, and her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest in anticipation.

                “Thanks.” Cas grabs the empty glass back out of Deanna’s hand, flashes her a smile that doesn’t quite reach her right cheek, and speed-walks back the direction she came.

                Deanna finds a chair and sits, blinking aggressively to clear her head. Did that really just happen? She needs another drink—something with a higher alcohol content. Instead, she grabs Sam, who is at the snack table (Jess couldn’t come, but at least there’s free food!), grinning like an idiot in his dapper black suit.

                “Hey Deanna, Jo’s been looking for-” Deanna grabs him by the arm and drags him out, past the chairs, past the white awning and purple ribbon, into the grass field where all the cars are parked. He puts up some protest but she doesn’t stop until she can feel the cool metal of Baby against the back of her legs. She feels grounded, and she exhales. Sam gives Deanna an exasperated look like _it’s a good thing you have such a kind brother, or I would stomp out of this field back to the food and away from my sister’s mental breakdown._

                “What the hell?”

                “Sam, I think I might be going crazy.”

                “A bit late for that.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, seriously. You’ll never guess who I just saw.”

                “Who?”

                “Cas.” He stares blankly at her. “You know, Cas. The girl from Lake High.”

                “What girl?”

                “You know. _Cas._ The dancer from my sophomore English class with the unforgettable eyes.” A few words too far on that one. Deanna scratches her neck and tries to play it off as nothing.

                “Oh yeah. Isn’t that the girl who made you realize you were bi?” Sam’s smiling mischievously now. Deanna’s romantic life always makes Sam turn into a 6 year old. Deanna rolls her eyes.

                “Yeah. That’s the one.”

                “Well what the hell is she doing here?”

                “Exactly!” Deanna tugs at the hem of her skirt, agitated.

                “You haven’t seen her in- what? 8 years? Did she say anything to you?”

                “That’s the weird part. She just handed me a drink, watched me drink it, and then _ran off with my empty glass._ ”

                He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe she’s trying to get you drunk. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

                “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s a good sign because I don’t know what I… I don’t know what I want from her. I don’t know who she is any more. Not that I ever really knew.” Sam smiles kindly at her. Ever the younger brother, but ever the stable one.

                “You saw a future with this girl once?”

                “Yes. When I was in high-school. From a distance.”

                “But you thought she was something special. You talked about her all the time.”

                “Yeah.” Deanna looks down at her shoes. She hates wearing heels, so they’re boots.

                “And is she still special?”

                “Yes.”

“And is she still hot?” Deanna smirks at that.

                “Hell yes.”

                “You deserve a win, Deanna. Just go for it. I mean how many second chances do we get?” Not damn-near enough. And for a second, something lights up in Deanna, like maybe _maybe_ if she can just fulfill this high-school fantasy everything shitty that’s happened in her life will reset. Like maybe she can start fresh. Grow up happy with her mother (chuck John out of the picture), go to a prestigious college—maybe even Stanford with Sam, work as a firefighter or something instead of a mechanic, and have a relationship that lasts more than a month. But she blinks that thought away. She can’t erase childhood trauma with a casual hookup. Not that she hasn’t tried.

                “Yeah well… we’ll see.” Sam links arms with her and they walk back to the wedding, breathing in the smooth August air. “It’s a shame Jo’s going off the market,” she jokes. Jo’s like a sister to them. A really hot sister. Sam laughs loudly.

                “Keep it in your pants, Deanna.”

                “Now when have you ever known me to do that?” She grins at him. As they pass back under the edge of the awning, the flower arrangement catches Deanna’s eye. And without really thinking about anything but the swish of Cas’s dress against her legs, Deanna grabs a purple iris from a bundle of flowers on a nearby table. She sticks it the inner pocket of her brown leather jacket, right next to her knife. Just in case.

                “Nice touch.” She’s just going to find Cas. Catch up. But she can’t do it with Sam breathing down her neck waiting for her to make some sort of move. And Deanna isn’t sure she’s quite ready for Sam to recognize Cas and connect the dots between Deanna’s crush and mom’s birthday her senior year.

                “I can’t have any little brothers around to cramp my style, now. Shoo.” She pushes him playfully with one hand.

                “I’ll go say hi to Ellen for the both of us then. Tell her Deanna’s too busy trying to get laid to say hello.”

                “Yeah, you do that.” Her eyes are already scanning the crowd. She looks for black hair in a calculatedly sloppy bun, and that lovely blue dress Deanna can see her hands all over. She spots Cas sitting alone at a table near the back, staring at the empty martini glass with her head in her hands.

                Deanna works her way through the crowd, trying to avoid getting caught in conversation. But being in a place filled with her favorite people has a downside. Kevin stops her (god, he’s getting tall), then Bobby (who of course she gives a big fat hug, even though she sees him every week), then Charlie (and of course Deanna makes time for Charlie whenever she wants it. That girl has gotten Deanna out of more trouble than anyone but Sam), and finally Jo herself, decked out in the most gorgeous white dress you’ve ever seen.

                “I’ve been looking for you! Hasn’t anyone told you you’re not supposed to mistreat a bride on her wedding day?” And that’s how Deanna, who’s not big on hugs, gives four hugs on her way to Cas. Ridiculous. When Deanna finally sits down next to her, Cas doesn’t even look up. Deanna sits there a moment, unsure what to say. “Wow I had the biggest crush on you in high-school and now it feels like destiny that I’m seeing you again 8 years later,” feels a little forward. But, “Hey, how’s it going,” feels impersonal. Fortunately, Cas speaks first.

                “Bride’s side or bride’s side?” Cas cracks a tiny smile at her own joke, which is just about the cutest thing Deanna has ever seen.

                “I’ve known Jo since I was a kid. She’s like my sister. You?”

                “I’ve known Anna since I was a kid. She _is_ my sister.” Deanna doesn’t ask why she’s not sitting with her family. She knows enough about blood family, the family you don’t get to choose, to know better. Sammy is a home-run of a brother, but that’s about it.

                “That explains it. I had heard Anna’s family was weird.” Cas lifts her eyes from the glass to Deanna’s face. Not smiling, just staring. Deanna’s breath catches in her throat, waiting to see if the joke will land. It doesn’t help that it’s hard to breathe beneath Cas’s stare.

                “You don’t know the half of it.” She smiles tiredly at Deanna and brings her eyes back to the glass. Deanna feels disorientated. In any other situation, she would think they were flirting, but Cas looks a little too sad to be flirting, and something about that damn glass has her transfixed.

                “Ok, I’m willing to keep pretending we’ve both forgotten about that night senior year, but spill. What’s with the glass?” The words just pop out of Deanna’s mouth. Something about proximity to Cas is starting to wear away her filter. It’s like she’s being sucked in by the gravity of Cas’s weird intensity.

                “I’m uh…” She picks up the glass but looks at Deanna. “I’m doing my best to quit but everyone keeps putting drinks in my hand and I don’t think I’m quite strong enough for that yet and I figured maybe if I was already holding an empty one they would… stop.” She blinks like that was a little more honest than she intended, but she doesn’t break eye contact. Deanna kind of wishes she would, but at the same time she’s transfixed by this gorgeous, quiet, alcoholic in a pretty blue dress.

                “That’s really uh… I’m sure that’s really tough.” Smooth as always, Winchester.

                “Yes. I feel like pulling out my hair.”

                “Well don’t do that.” Cas’s gaze is like a glass slide. It has pressed Deanna flat, and all her bullshit has escaped her, including her flirting skills.

                “I’m Cas.” She holds out her hand. Deanna just glances at it.

                “We’ve already met.”

                “I know.”

                “I know your name.”

                “I know.”

                “You know my name.”

                “I know.” Cas is smiling now, and it’s impossible to deny her when she’s smiling. Deanna takes Cas’s hand and shakes it.

                “I’m Deanna.” Cas’s hands are rough and callused. It’s kind of hot. “I’ll tell you what, Cas. I know the bartender, Benny, and I happen to know he makes a mean virgin strawberry daiquiri. Should I go grab two?”

                “Yes. I would like that.” Deanna runs over to Benny, gets the drinks, and practically sprints back. But by the time she gets back, Cas has disappeared. She has a tendency of doing that.

* * *

 

                Cas Novak walked smack into Deanna Winchester’s life for the first time behind Lake High’s theater at 10:30 on a Thursday night. She had been on the periphery of Deanna’s life before of course, but that was the moment she stepped from school-girl crush to something less definable. Cas was in athletic shorts, sneakers and a t-shirt (it was spring) and she was carrying pointe-shoes over her shoulder. Deanna was bawling her eyes out, sitting with her back against the wall. She noticed Cas of course (how could she not notice the girl who pretty much defined her sophomore year?) and she focused all her energy on willing Cas to keep walking. _Don’t let her see me like this. Don’t let her see me like this._ She and Cas didn’t ever talk. Most people would have kept walking. But of course, Cas walked over and kneeled in front of Deanna. She spoke quietly, gently, but firmly.

                “Hey, what’s going on over here?” Deanna started to answer but she was overwhelmed by fear and shame and sorrow and a deep, aching pain in her chest. Deanna hated crying, but she just kept doing it. Cas sat down next to her and put her shoes aside. “Is it alright if I hug you?” She was laser-focused on Deanna, like nothing else was there. Deanna nodded and Cas put an arm over her shoulder and squeezed. Her hair tickled Deanna’s neck. Cas wasn’t tentative about the physical contact, and she wasn’t embarrassed. The kindness of almost-strangers was a bit too much for Deanna to bear and she started crying even harder. The kind of crying where snot comes out of your nose and you can’t breathe.

                Cas just sat there and let her cry, not worried, not trying to stop her, just there. Eventually her breathing steadied. “It’s ok. Cry as much as you need to. Crying is healthy.” Deanna laughed weakly at that.

                “Then why does it feel like utter shit?”

                “Better to release your utter shit than keep it in.” Deanna turned her head away, hit by the full embarrassment of having this girl she so admired seeing her like this. “I’m Cas.”

                “I know. I’m-”

                “Deanna.” Cas knew who she was. “We had English together sophomore year, remember?”

                “Yeah, I remember.” Understatement of the century. They sat there in silence for a minute. Then Cas spoke, gently.

                “Are you going to tell me what’s going on here?” Deanna stiffened, but Cas kept her arm firmly around Deanna’s shoulder. There was determined kindness in her eyes.

                “It’s uh… look, you can’t tell anyone about this. It’s my dad. He uh-” A dry sob came out of nowhere. She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m not normally like this.”

                “Okay.”

                “I’m a lot cooler than this.”

                “You were saying about your dad?”

                “Well… my mom died today. Not _today_ today. 14 years ago today. And my dad’s just having a really… hard time.”

                Something steely dripped into Cas’s voice. “Let me guess. His hard time means a harder time for you.” They couldn’t really make eye contact at that angle (thank god) but a silent understanding passed between them. If Deanna had to pick the moment Cas began to mentally arm herself for battle, it would have been that one.

                “It’s complicated. It’s not his fault.” Cas pulled back so she could grab Deanna by the shoulders. For the first time, Deanna was subjected to the city-levelling power of Cas’s eye contact.

                “Deanna. It is never ok for someone to hurt you—physically, mentally, whatever. I can’t speak to what goes on in your house, but you know that right? You know that you deserve, by law, by God, by whatever metric you choose, to be safe and happy, right?” A little voice inside Deanna said _no_ but she nodded. “Do you need somewhere to sleep tonight?” And then Deanna remembered the reason she had been crying so hard, and she turned away.

                “My brother Sam’s still at home. I left him there. Oh god, I just ran out and I didn’t know where to go so I came to fucking school but I left him and I need to go back but I can’t I-” Deanna had to stop talking or she was going to start crying again. Something settled in Cas’s eyes—A quiet resolve with the ancient power of a mountain range.

                “You don’t have to go back in that house. You just have to give me directions so I can get there.”

                “Are you sure?”

                “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.”

                Deanna to this day has no idea what kind of battle Cas must have had to fought to get Sam out of that house and drive him back to her. She just knows that Cas won. Cas led Deanna and a tired and shell-shocked Sam into the theater—Cas had her own set of keys so she could practice there at night. God knows how she got them. Deanna guessed that Cas just had a force of will that everyone couldn’t help but bow before. Cas told them that she wished she could offer them a place to sleep at her house, but that that wasn’t an option. Another silent understanding passed between Cas and Deanna. You don’t practice dance at school at 10:30 PM unless you don’t really want to go home.

                Sam and Deanna slept in the theater that night. Sam didn’t ask any questions (that was back before he got that mouth on him), and Deanna’s pretty sure he’s never made the connection between their knight in shining athletic shorts and the girl Deanna talked about non-stop sophomore year.

                Deanna didn’t really talk to Cas for the rest of the year. If she’s being honest, she was avoiding her. She hates vulnerability and she hates debts. Then the end of the school year came and Cas just disappeared. They never spoke about that night until 8 years later at Jo Harvelle’s wedding in the middle of August.

* * *

 

                Deanna finds Cas hiding in the bathroom. She wasn’t actually looking for her there, she just came to pee and she saw the empty glass next to the sink when she was washing her hands. Deanna looks around. The doors to all the stalls are open except the big one at the end. She took the handicapped stall. Shameful.

                Deanna waits a moment to see if she can hear anything. After a minute of this, she feels like an idiot. She’s not stalking prey, she’s trying to find a girl. “Cas?” After a moment the voice comes from the stall.

                “Deanna?”

                “I promise I’m not stalking you, I just came in to pee.” Cas laughs, but it’s forced. “As long as I’m here… can I come in? Not that… well not if you’re actually… you know.” There is a pause that gives Deanna time to feel like an idiot.

                “Okay.”

                “Okay.” Deanna starts to walk towards the stall, then thinks for a moment and goes and turns the lock on the door into the bathroom. She feels a little murdery doing it, but you never know what will happen in a bathroom at a wedding, and she’d like a little privacy. Besides, anyone who doesn’t have the guts to pee in the men’s room (lord knows she’s done it a couple times when the line was too long) can find the women’s room on the other side of the reception. Deanna walks over to the stall and knocks, feeling like an idiot. There seems to be a lot of that going around.

                “Come in.” When it becomes evident that Cas isn’t going to get up and unlock the door, Deanna crawls under the bottom of the stall like a little kid, trying to keep her skirt from touching the floor. Deanna’s never been afraid to get a little dirty, but bathroom floors are kind of nasty.

                Cas is sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, with her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. Deanna was expecting tears or something, but she’s just… sitting there.

                “So… you come here often?”

                Cas smiles halfheartedly at that and then speaks. “Sorry about leaving you there. It’s not you, it’s just… it’s this. This place. This… wedding.”

                “What? You don’t approve of gay marriage?” Deanna asks in a measured tone.

                “No it’s not that at all. I mean, I might want to get married to a woman one day so…” She’s queer. If Deanna believed in God, she would be thanking Her over and over. “It’s just… I used to have all these plans. I was going to move to New York and be a dancer, I was going to… I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

                “It’s really not.” Deanna feels awkward standing while Cas sits, so she sits against the wall next to her, carefully sweeping her skirt underneath her. “I used to want to be a firefighter when I grew up, if you’ll believe it. And Sam wanted to be a lawyer. But the difference is he’s doing it. And then there’s just… me.” Cas looks at Deanna, her eyes wide and sad.

                “You would have been a good firefighter.”

                “Thanks.” They sit there for a moment, making dizzying eye contact. No one ever taught Cas what’s an appropriate length of time to make silent eye contact with someone but Deanna’s not complaining.  

                “I was supposed to be the functional one in my family. But my brother Michael, he’s CEO of some big company, and now Anna’s getting married to the girl of her dreams and I’m… frankly, I’m an alcoholic.” It takes everything Deanna has to not ask, _where have you been all my life?_

                “And it’s not that I feel sad about it. I just feel… empty.” Deanna doesn’t know what to say. Feelings aren’t exactly her forte, but she’ll try for Cas.

                “Is it alright if I hug you?”

                Cas remembers and she smiles sadly but sincerely, nodding. Deanna kneels next to Cas and wraps her in a tight hug. Cas sits still for a moment and then reciprocates, pressing her face into Deanna’s shoulder. They stay like that until Cas nods and draws back. Deanna goes back to sitting against the wall, and pretends not to notice Cas wiping her eyes.

                “I’m not normally this honest with people. I don’t know what it is about you.”

                “Well, you just owed me one.”

                Cas smiles at that. “Tell me something, Deanna.”

                “Sure.”

                “Why did you avoid me after that night?” Cas is looking down at her hands now.

                “What? I didn’t.”

                “We both know the flow of normal high-school existence. Even if you don’t have any classes with someone you still _see_ them around. And you were just… gone.” Deanna sighs.

                “I was a… troubled youth to say the least. Shit, I’m a troubled adult.” Cas looks up at her, confrontational now.

                “That’s not an answer. Trouble comes in all shapes and sizes. That doesn’t mean you mistreat the people who were kind to you.” Deanna can’t lie with those eyes on her.

                “You saw me, Cas. You were the first person who really saw me. In one fucking night, _one_ , you saw through to the core of me more than anyone else. And that scared the shit out of me. I was starting to figure out who I was and I hated what I saw and… you were seeing the same thing and I figured… I don’t know, I was just scared you wouldn’t like what you saw either.” Deanna looks down at the floor and lets out a shaky exhale. “Look at me, I can’t get through one conversation with you without crying.”

                “You were wrong.”

                “What?”

                “I liked what I saw.” They let that hang in the air. Someone tries to open the bathroom door, makes a few exasperated noises, and gives up.

                “Cas.”

                “Yeah?”

                “I know you’re sad right now. Or not sad. Empty. Depressed. Whatever. And that’s okay. I know that no one thing—no one other person—is the solution to that. But, if you’ll let me, I’d like to do my best to help.”

                “Deanna…” She’s shaking her head. Deanna thinks hard. She needs to say this right. She knows perfectly well what asses people trying to help you can sound like.

                “I’m not saying you can just stop being sad. I’m saying you can be happy _too_. I mean, I was going through hell Sam’s senior year of high-school, but you’d better believe I went through the fucking roof when he got his acceptance letter from Stanford. That happiness wasn’t a lie. And neither was how sad I was. Does that make sense?”

                “Yeah.” Cas is watching Deanna like her eyes were made to watch her face.

                “What makes you happy, Cas?” The more Deanna talks, the more she starts to believe herself. The more it starts to feel real that she can fix this—not fix everything but just _something_.

                “I don’t know.” She’s telling the truth, or at least she thinks she is. Deanna’s mind is spinning into warp drive.

                “What about dancing, huh? Does dancing make you happy?”

                “Oh I don’t dance anymore.”

                “Bullshit.”

                “Excuse me?”

                Deanna is standing now, smiling. “You have just about the most muscular calves I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve been looking at your calves. Or your ass.” Cas laughs sincerely at that. “Now I’m no expert, but I dated a ballerina a while back, and those legs have been dancing.”

                “Okay, well, dancing is a good workout.” It’s bullshit and she knows it.

                “You know, I happen to know a dancefloor near here. What do you say we get this reception started?” Cas smiles the saddest and happiest smile Deanna has ever seen. Deanna’s certain she must be grinning like an idiot herself.

                “One condition.”

                “What?”

                “I get to kiss that stupid grin off your face first.”

                “Sounds like a reasonable price.” Deanna rises to her knees. Cas takes her right hand and gently places it on Deanna’s cheek. She pulls Deanna’s face in, gently, slowly and then their lips are touching. It’s slow and sweet for a bit, and then they’re making out. And it’s awesome. Deanna’s glad she locked the door. They stand to get a better angle, and Cas is pressing her against the wall, and Deanna is feeling Cas’s dancer calf muscles up-close and personal next to her own, when Deanna feels it in her coat.

                “Oh shit. Stop for a second.”

                “What? Are you okay?”

                “Yeah, you’re just crushing the flower I stole for you.” Deanna pulls out the iris, which is a little worse for wear, but aren’t they all? Cas gives her the cutest smirk, and Deanna’s heart falls through the floor.

                “I don’t know if I can fuck a thief. It’s not respectable.”

                “Who said anything about fucking?” Cas takes the flower and puts it in her hair.

                “How does that look?”

                “Amazing. But I’m biased.”

                Cas exhales heavily. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

                Deanna doesn’t quite process that this will involve _her_ dancing as well until the music is already playing. She isn’t known to dance, at least not in front of people.

                They leave the first song to Jo and Anna, who look absolutely gorgeous together, twirling and laughing on the dance floor. Cas and Deanna sit at a table on the side, sipping virgin strawberry daiquiris while they wait. Cas seems lighter just sitting there waiting to dance. So of course, Deanna can’t back out, but she is acutely aware of Sam across the room, watching the two of them. He’s going to have a field day when Deanna starts dancing.

                The first song ends and people are clapping. Deanna starts to get a little nervous. “You should just know, I’m not a very good dancer. So I’ll probably only hold you back…” Cas’s eyes sparkle with affection.

                “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine. Besides, you’re half the fun.”

                “No really, I don’t want you to get your hopes up.” The music starts. It’s something upbeat. Good dancing music.

                “Shut up and dance with me.” Cas stands and extends her arm to Deanna. Deanna looks into those eyes that hold the weight of the universe behind them—a pair of eyes she could look into for the rest of her life and never get bored—and takes Cas’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by Shut Up and Dance by Walk the Moon.  
> Thanks to You_Idjits for being a stellar beta and person.  
> Also posted to my tumblr: bean-winchester.tumblr.com


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